Confusion
by Taylaaa
Summary: Hogwarts is getting more and more confusing by the day, and the famous trio simply can't keep up. Romance, friendship, hatred... it's all there. R&R : Rated T to be safe.
1. Answers

**Disclaimer: I do not, of course, own any of the characters. They belong to the maginificent JK Rowling. I only own the plot. Enjoy(:**

"Is it rude for me to refuse?"

Hermione Granger sat, perplexed and cross-legged, in one of the large, red chairs that donned the Gryffindor Common Room. Her lower lip was tucked beneath her top row of teeth; her confused eyes were set on Ginny Weasley, who sat across from her, fiddling with her thumbs. Quietly, but impatiently, Hermione awaited Ginny's answer. When many moments passed and there was still no response from the little red-headed girl, Hermione sprang up in an attempt to keep from snapping at her.

"Calm down, Hermione," Ginny demanded, knowing all too well that the girl was agitated. "I'm trying to think of the right answer."

"There's a right answer?" Hermione cried, incredulous. "There shouldn't be a right answer; and if there is, it shouldn't take this long to figure out! It's yes... or it's no."

Ginny scowled. "If it's so simple, why don't you figure it out for yourself?"

"For _myself_?" Hermione repeated. She groaned, stalking over to Ginny's high-armed chair. Plunking down on her knees, lacing her fingers together, she pleaded, "Ginny, I may be top of our class, but that hardly means I've got any experience in the... well, in the men department."

"And I suppose you think I do?"

"You've been going around snogging Dean for quite some time now... haven't you?" Hermione questioned. "Aren't you two some sort of... item?"

"Snogging Dean has nothing to do with it. It doesn't mean I have _experience_ in the 'men department'." Her fingers curled around the last two words.

Hermione smirked, just the tiniest bit, unable to resist. "Are you saying that Dean's not a man?"

"_Hermione!_" Ginny screeched. "If you keep making witty remarks like that, perhaps I _won't_ tell you if you'd be rude to turn him down." She stood, knocking Hermione off balance, sending her sprawling onto the rug. With a flip of her flaming auburn hair, Ginny added hotly, "I don't even see why you care about being rude to him or not. It's not as if he actually likes you." Without another word, she stormed out.

Perhaps more perplexed than ever now, Hermione sat exactly where Ginny had knocked her down, legs spread, arms back, contemplating. _It's not as if he actually likes you._ The words tossed and turned in her head, stinging more and more each time they repeated themselves. _It's not as if he actually likes you._ That was impossible, she decided. He had to like her, in order to ask her out, to risk becoming the social outcast of his House - perhaps of the school. It just wasn't protocal for him to ask her, for any one of them to ask her, practically for _anyone_ - with the small exception of the dazzling Quidditch star, Viktor Krum - to ask her. The only time that anyone had really asked her anything romantic was on a dare, and that one time that Ronald finally realized she was a girl. (That particular moment of Weasley stupidity would forever be etched in her mind.)

So he had to like her... at least a little.

"You look glum, Granger."

"Yeah, Granger, what's got you down?"

The familar yet unrecognizable voices floated from the stairs. Hermione stood, looking around for those infamous tufts of ginger hair.

"Aw, keep sitting like that Granger."

"Yeah, we like it like that, Granger."

Heat rose in Hermione's already-warm cheeks. They shouldn't be talking to her like that, she knew, and yet the attention always felt good. There was something about their teasing, similar voices that simply made her insecurities slip away. "Oh, nothing," she cooed, "just thinking."

"About what?" One of them - Fred, she thought - popped up next to her.

"She's thinking about a boy, mate, I can see it in those eyes of hers," George said, appearing at her other side.

"I never - wait a minute," Hermione said, "how did you two get here?" It looked as if they'd Apparated, but there was no Apparition allowed inside the Hogwarts grounds...

"We're just testing out one of our new products," Fred told her. "It's a momentary invisibility chew."

"A momentary what?"

"Invisibility chew," George supplied. "For as long as you're chewing on the thing, you're invisible. Want to give it a try?"

Hermione shook her head. She'd seen the testing stages of the Weasley twin's products before; to put it kindly, it wasn't always pleasant. And by the looks of the enormous blue splotch spreading across George's left cheek, this one was no different.

"Alright," Fred shrugged. He, too, noticed the blue on his twin's face, but decided to keep it quiet. It was funnier that way.

"Fine by us," George chimed.

"So why don't you tell us what boy has got you so... blue?" Fred grinned boyishly. When George shot him a curious look, he wiped the smile off his face almost immediatly.

Hermione took a moment to debate telling them. On the upside, they could tell her whether or not to refuse. On the downside, they'd probably tell Harry or Ron about the predicament, sending both of them into a tailspin. There was a reason she'd kept this a secret from them. "It's just someone in another House, that's all."

"Oh," George said. "We can help you if you want. 'Cept our knowledge of the bloke might be a bit skewed... the Extendable Ears don't work too well outside the Common Rooms, we figured out."

This came as no shock to her. "It's alright," Hermione said. "Thanks, though."

"Anytime. Have we mentioned you're like a sister to us lately?"

Hermione smiled. "I don't think you've ever mentioned that."

"Well, you are. And we're glad it's not Ron, because if our sister started snogging our brother... well, that'd just be odd," Fred decided.

"Beyond odd," George agreed.

"But not odder than if it was a Slytherin she's snogging. Then it would be downright insane, right George?"

"Right."

"So it best not be a Slytherin you're snogging, alright, 'Mione?" Fred demanded. "Because that'd just give us all the more reason to kick his arse."

"Okay?" George demanded.

Hermione just nodded, glad that she hadn't confided too much in them. The twins patted her twice on the back - once each - before turning and heading back towards the boys dormitories. Hermione watched them go. George's face had become almost completely blue by now.

"Um... George..." she called out.

Fred turned before his twin, running a finger across his neck. "Don't tell him," he mouthed.

"Yeah?" the other twin asked.

Hermione shook his head. "Nevermind."


	2. Chocolate Frogs & So Much More

The twins had made it halfway upstairs before someone pointed out that George's face was a horrendous shade of blue.

"Aww, Ronnie, you ruined it..." Fred complained. It took less than a second for him to sense his twin's anger; he was gone before Ron got a chance to respond. There was no time for a comment to George, either, for he had darted after his brother. The remaining Weasley shrugged his gangly shoulders nonchalantly and continued downstairs.

It was the smell of Chocolate Frogs that had brought him to the Common Room, though once he got there, all he saw was a moping Hermione. Curious - about both why Hermione was upset and the current absence of chocolate - he cut his way across the room. "Hey," he said softly. His voice made her jump; she clearly hadn't heard him come down. A lopsided grin spread across his face. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said distractedly.

"I - er - smelled chocolate..."

"The frogs are on the table," she said knowingly. "Take them, I don't want them."

Ron happily obliged. As he held the squirming thing in his hand, he eyed the box it had come from. "Wait a minute... aren't these the ones I gave you for Christmas?"

"Oh... I don't know. Are they?"

He ran a finger along the back of the box. _Happy Christmas Mione_ had been written in ink on the ones he'd give her; sure enough, there were indents from where he had pressed his quill too hard. He narrowed his red eyebrows. "You don't like them?"

"Not particuarly, no."

"So you don't mind if I eat them...?"

"For goodness sake, Ronald, just eat the damn things already!"

"What's got your knickers in a bunch?" Ron demanded, biting off the head of the frog.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Absolutely nothing," she snapped. "Nothing at all. My knickers are in no bunch. In fact, I'm - "

"Hermione," Ron interjected, "your babbling."

"Well perhaps if you didn't keep interupting, there'd be no reason for my babbling!" she screeched. Agitated, slightly furious, and more than a little bit annoyed, she grabbed her bag and stormed off. Ron watched as the portrait hole slammed shut behind her. As he did, he made a mental note to check the calander. Perhaps it wasn't a good day...

- - -

Boys, she decided, could not get any more stupid. Especially tall, awkward red-headed ones. Could he not tell, just by looking at her, by listening to her, that she wasn't too keen on talking to him at the moment? That she really did care if he ate those Chocolate Frogs? That the only reason she'd agreed to letting him eat them was because she wanted him _out_? Ugh, it was just so... _irritating_!

And - oh! - the way he'd asked her what was wrong... could he have been more pompous, more arrogant, more _rude_ about it? 'Knickers in a bunch'? What the hell was that?

"That's impossible!"

Her heart did a quick flip; she knew that voice, she knew that voice all too well. It was slick, it was mysterious, it was cold... it was bittersweet, too, in a way. It reminded her of chilly winter days, the kind that were spent huddling around a jar of blue flames in the courtyard, drinking warm buttermilk in Hogsmead... the good days. Those were days when nobody cared about what they did, when they had no stress upon their shoulders. They were, in a way, even easier than the first few days of summer, which were typically spent worrying about exams. When she thought of them that way, she realized that those were her favorite kinds of days. And, unfortunatly, it was _his_ voice that reminded her of them.

"Hermione!"

She spun around quickly, trying to catch her breath - apparently, thinking about his mystifying voice had found a way to make her lose it. "Oh, hello, Harry."

"I just saw Ron - " The spectacled boy watched for any trace of annoyance. " - Did you two have another row or something?"

"It was hardly a row, though I'm sure he overexaggerated," she began, "he's just been rather annoying lately."

Harry eyed her. "Annoying how?"

"Just annoying," she said. "I don't know... there's just been something about him that'd been irritating me lately."

"Well that explains a lot," Harry said flatly.

"I don't know, Harry... I don't know how I ought to explain it."

He didn't reply for a moment. Instead, his vivid green eyes wandered around the corridor. Hermione waited with slightly bated breath for him to settle on the boy at the end; she knew Harry saw him as soon as his eyes hardened. "Let's go to the library," Harry suggested. "I need to work on an essay for Flitwick, and I could sure use your help."

She let her breath out quietly. "Alright," she agreed, "as long as you don't make me tell you what's bothering me about Ronald."

"I promise."

She smiled. With a nod, she gestured for Harry to lead the way. Once he was a good few steps ahead of her, she took a chance to look back behind her shoulder. What she saw surprised her: an empty hallway. He was... gone.


End file.
